50 First Dates
by flutterby cupcake
Summary: Destiel Fic! Dean grudgingly agrees to a date with Castiel, but Castiel decides to use his angelic powers to have more than one date with the hunter. Very loosely based on the film, because if you had Castiel's power, would you stick to a Groundhog Day style? Some content may be slightly graphic, though I'm leaving the rating at T.
1. Chapter 1

**I spent most of last night working on this, helped enormously by the wonderfully talented GrammarDemon. It's the raciest stuff I've managed to write, which wasn't my intention with this story, but there we go. That's why the rating will remain a T, despite the starting chapter. And no, I didn't study the way Jensen drinks from a beer bottle on this show. Much. But in case you're interested after this chapter, season 4 has some wonderful examples of what I describe. I hope you enjoy this story, I have a lot of ideas for it! I'd really appreciate the feedback, if you'd be so kind.**

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All Castiel's dreams had come true. Dean had agreed to see him. As in, dating. As in, giving Castiel the fully human experience that he'd been looking forward to.

It had been an awkward conversation, after hours one night in a motel room, Sam fast asleep and snoring in the bed furthest from the door as Dean drank a beer.

Castiel was fascinated as Dean drank his beer. The way the muscles in Dean's biceps flexed and strained, the way his lips curved naturally around the bottle's opening, how Dean's tongue flicked out into the bottle neck before he raised the base of it, and tipped the liquid in his mouth, as though he could fully coat his tongue, tasting the beer before drinking it. Castiel imagined that kissing Dean would be much the same, the seal of his mouth, his tongue protruding forward, tasting the kiss before it truly started, letting Castiel have a taste of him before anything happened, before Dean's tongue flicked back in his mouth, or ran itself over Castiel's teeth, the way their mouths would move together, almost grinding against each other as Castiel's tongue moved of its own accord, twisting against Deans, a hint of alcohol bound to be on the hunter's breath. And how would Castiel taste to him?

Castiel imagined Dean's firm grasp on his hips, Dean's fingers moving slowly around, palms sliding onto Castiel's ass as his fingertips dug into the flesh, pulling Castiel's form against his own, as Castiel's fingers skimmed effortlessly through Dean's short brown hair, the bristles tickling as they brushed his fingers, the way his fingers would lock at the back of Dean's head, pulling him closer, not allowing Dean to leave the kiss as Castiel's stomach dipped and peaked like a car on a roller coaster and his heart burned with so much intensity that Dean would surely feel it through his thin t-shirt. Castiel could imagine Dean panting, fighting to get enough breath without breaking the connection between them as Castiel struggled to control his own breathing, which would accelerate as the fire in his chest grew. And then their bodies would start mimicking their joined mouths, flexing together, working out a rhythm, fighting against the limitations as Dean would stumble forward, trying to brace Castiel against a wall, or a table, or the nearby bed …

They had been talking in lowered voices, trying not to disturb Sam, the intensity of the conversation making them practically murmur.

'Humans have very complex mating rituals, I've noticed over the years. You all like to believe that you're the more advanced generation, but it's not true. There are repetitions that occur, it just depends on which style is more acknowledged.' Castiel was trying to make the whole thing clinical, too worried to expose his feelings just yet. Dean grunted, and Castiel took that as his signal to continue talking. 'I don't fully understand where the distinctions come from, but I know some people prefer to announce themselves as a couple, and eventually declare themselves betrothed. And once they've married, they finally have intercourse.'

Dean nearly choked on his beer, sitting forward in his seat and swiping a rough hand across his mouth, his lower lip moving slightly as it caught on his palm. Castiel forced himself not to stare, so he could keep his thoughts on track and explain further what he meant.

'And there are people like yourself, who will have sex with several partners in a row, who see it completely separate to a relationship. Who don't even seem interested in a relationship.'

Dean raised his eyebrows, his forehead crinkling as his brilliant green eyes were exposed. Castiel knew that this expression meant Dean was surprised, but Castiel didn't immediately understand why. Dean didn't speak, and Castiel knew he wasn't going to interrupt until Castiel had explained himself fully.

'Then I've noticed, there are those who seek a partner. They may be with their partner for one night, or a week, maybe even a year, but they're the ones unsatisfied with their lot. So after the night, or the week, however long, they look for another partner, someone who will fill the void they believe that they have. That's what I've noticed about humans approaches to courting.'

'Sometimes it's not that black and white, Cas. And there's all kinds of relationships out there. It depends on who you are, how the person you're with defines themselves, what you're trying to get out of the situation, whether you're on the same page. Some people get married to the people they thought were going to be one night stands. Some people never get married.'

'I don't think I understand, Dean.'

'Well, like, you mentioned me. And you'd be right, sometimes, most times, sex is just sex. Okay, it's not just sex, because it's _sex_, you know? It's one of my favourite things to do, and most of the time, I'm just looking for someone willing to join in, to enjoy it for what it is, no expectations that I'd even be there in the morning. And I'm lucky Cas, there's a lot of women out there who are okay with it, so long as you spell it out. But I've had relationships too. I was with Cassie for a few years. I keep going back to Lisa. And when I was with both of them, sex with anyone else was off the cards. Sex with the two of them was off the cards until they made it clear it was what they wanted. And I was happy to wait, Cas, because they meant something. And if it took a whole week for them to decide to sleep with me, it was fine.'

'What made you decide to treat Cassie and Lisa differently?'

Dean chuckled, lifting the beer bottle again, lips sealing the bottle, tongue darting forward, oblivious to the small shiver it set off in Castiel's spine, or the increasing buzz within Castiel's chest that made his stomach burn. His fingers were fighting to stretch forward, to remove the beer bottle, to replace it with himself and re-inact the same scene he'd been imagining for weeks.

You just know, Dean had said. It's a gut instinct, or a mutual agreement through conversation. Like the desire for sex was there, but there were signs of possible friendship too, where you wanted to know the dumb things like favourite colours and favourite meals and how they take their coffee. You didn't want to do that with just anyone. The mundane nature of that kind of conversation was only interesting when you had that level of understanding.

Castiel asked Dean how he took his coffee.

It took Dean a moment, before he sniggered, lowering the now empty beer bottle and clapping Castiel on the shoulder, and telling him it didn't matter, he'd never expect the angel to get him a coffee. Castiel hadn't responded straight away, his gaze dropping to Dean's hand on his shoulder, the way his blunt nails dug in slightly, the tight grip of Dean's fingers, the bruised and scratched knuckles that never seemed to fully heal before splitting open again, the intense heat that radiated through the trench coat, the suit jacket, and the shirt, right onto Castiel's skin. All his senses seemed to pool there, or in his groin, making him shift slightly into Dean's touch. And then Dean had spoken, articulating in his usual clumsy way his thought process as he realised that Castiel had intended the subtext, and how personally Castiel must have been taking the conversation. Castiel wondered if it was the fact he'd even attempted such a human way of communicating that Dean said the words he'd been imagining. Or a variation of them, anyway.

'Well, gee Cas … I mean … you know … I haven't really - because it's not … is that what you … you know?'

Castiel had shook his head slowly, not fully understanding what Dean was trying to encapsulate in the words "you know". Dean tended to use that phrase when he was expressing the notion that his feelings were more than evident in his actions and didn't need the gravity of words applied to them, that much Castiel knew. He just wasn't sure that Dean's "you know" matched Castiel's "you know" however much he wanted that to be the case. And then Dean had shrugged, letting go of Castiel's shoulder, his fingertips grazing down Castiel's arms and unknowingly causing a tidal wave of sensation erupting in goosebumps down the path his contact made.

'Black. Strong. Sugar depends on how many nights I've already gone without sleep.'

'Dean, I-'

'I know what you meant, Cas. So, what are you asking for here?'

Dean's expression was blank, the only hint of an emotion on his face was a slightly tic in one cheek. Castiel watched the twitching muscle, imagining trying to calm it with his mouth. He made himself concentrate, because Dean didn't seem entirely opposed to the idea of them together. If he expressed this correctly, Castiel would be able to have the kind of relationship with Dean that he'd been asking for.

'I would like to experience a date. Or a series of dates.'

'So you want me to hook you up with someone?' Dean folded his arms across his chest, his t-shirt wrinkling slightly as his pectorals stood out, highlighted in the dips and stretched material. Castiel made himself push away the image of licking them, nibbling them, tracing the contours of Dean's chest and stomach with his hands, following their progress with his mouth. He would worship Dean, if he had the chance, angelic duty be damned.

'No, I don't wish for a "hook up" Dean. I would like to experience a series of dates with someone who you described. Someone I have a friendship with, who-'

'Who you can make coffee for?' Dean interrupted, his eyes now scanning Castiel's face. Castiel sat up straight, hoping that Dean's search of his expression yielded the correct results. This was the moment of truth that Castiel was longing for, and now it was here, the bubbling feeling in his stomach was threatening to spill over. 'Sure Cas. Make me coffee in the morning. We'll work the rest out later.'

Castiel had beamed, as Dean stretched, and scratched his stomach before standing up, his t-shirt rising up slightly and exposing Dean's flat stomach, and the hint of a curve of muscle leading down into his jeans, one of his abs disrupting the otherwise small skin. Castiel could see a few wisps of dark hair along the edge of the exposed flesh, and Castiel noted that for his next fantasy about Dean, he would need to include the faint trail of dark fuzz that stretched from Dean's belly button down passed the waistband of his pants. Castiel's eyes flicked up, and he caught Dean's expression, the dimpled marks in Dean's cheeks coupled with his thinned lips indicated that Dean knew exactly what Castiel had been thinking. And then Dean had said goodnight, and gone to sleep, leaving Castiel to try to understand if it had been okay to look at Dean that way. Castiel waited until Dean was asleep as well to step into the bathroom, remove his human clothes and stand in the shower, running the water and reliving all his fantasies, holding his own body with a touch he imagined Dean would have. Rough hands, but soft caresses, a tenderness in the way he explored Castiel's body, the confidence that Dean would have in knowing what would set Castiel off, turn him on, and lose the function of his human legs. He often fantasised about Dean in this way when the Winchesters were asleep and oblivious to just how depraved Castiel had come.

Castiel was dubious that Dean would wake up and forget the whole incident, but the next day, Castiel was aware that Dean was watching him every chance he got. Castiel watched him so much, it was obvious to him when there was a difference with Dean. It was just unfortunate that Dean had almost totalled the Impala during one of their many lingering gazes. Sam had insisted on driving, as Dean was clearly distracted, and Castiel found Dean staring at him in the side mirror.

That night, Dean had sat up in the next motel's kitchenette, under the guise of researching the case he and his brother were working on, and when Sam had turned in for the night, and fallen into a deep sleep, Dean brought the conversation up.

'So, did you get me coffee?' Dean smirked as he spoke, his eyes dancing with humour. Castiel had barely left his side, he knew what the answer would be.

'Forgive me, Dean. I could find some, if it's important to you.'

'No, it's good.'

'I know you like a strong black coffee, sugar content increasing as your sleep deprivation builds.'

Dean's smirk grew into a full smile, and he looked away, eyeing Sam's prone body cautiously. Castiel took the welcome break in conversation to marvel over the perfection of Dean's earlobe, how the curves of each part of his ear seemed to flow together, to naturally lead on to the next section. And how every millimetre of Dean's ear would feel as Castiel grazed his teeth over it. Castiel tried to remind himself that he was getting erotic over Dean's ear, and Dean would not appreciate it if Castiel's human body revealed his thoughts.

'So, say we're on a date, what would we be doing?'

Castiel shrugged awkwardly.

'We would be on a date.'

'Yeah, Cas, I got that. What would you want to do?'

'Date you.'

Dean gave Castiel a strange look, his eyes narrowed and his mouth scrunched together in a way that made Castiel want to stick his finger in there, to make Dean suck it, sliding it into his mouth and out again. He had to stop with the inappropriate thoughts, because there was more to this situation, for Castiel, then just sexual contact. He wanted a relationship with Dean, he liked the idea of finding out what colours Dean preferred and the pictures he would see in an ink blot test. He wanted to hear Dean discuss his feelings towards Sam, and towards himself.

'Do you not know what people do on dates?' Dean asked softly. Castiel shook his head. 'Well, it depends on who's on the date, but most people like to go to a fancy restaurant, dressed up real nice, and they talk while they eat, share a bottle of wine, get to know each other, that kind of thing.'

'We already know each other,' Castiel mused, and Dean smiled, looking down at the floor as he folded his arms again, his bulging biceps straining against his built and buffed chest, and Castiel felt a stab of desire as he imagined himself sandwiched between Dean's chest and arms.

'Well, some people go to movies and spend the entire time making out with each other, ignoring the entire reason they're there. That's always fun,' Dean laughed, and Castiel's eyes were caught by Dean's perfectly straight, white teeth. There was nothing that Castiel could see that rendered Dean anything less than an example of a perfect human being. No wonder Castiel's father loved humans so much, when humans like Dean existed.

'Would you take me to the movies one time, maybe?'

'One time? How many dates are you expecting, Cas?'

'How many are you willing to give me?'

Dean clearly hadn't been expecting Castiel to give such a direct answer back, because he reeled in his seat slightly, before straightening his features, trying to give the appearance of a poker face.

'One date, Cas. Let's take it one date at a time.'

The days passed in much the same way, the constant eye contact, and then at night, once Sam was asleep, the conversations about what they would do when they finally got the chance to go out, just the two of them. Castiel liked listening to Dean's low voice as he described all manner of dates that he'd been on, trying to give Castiel some idea of what he would enjoy best for their first time.

The problem was, Castiel wanted to do them all. He wanted to do more. He wanted to show Dean the infinite possibilities that came with amorous relationships with angels. They could travel through space and time and infinite realities. They could change their matter or lose it entirely. Cas could show Dean his favourite Heaven, and the truth of Earth and human history. Or they could sit on the Impala talking and sinking beers, go bowling, walk on a moonlit beach, go on a roller coaster at Lunar Park, go dancing. The possibilities stretching on and on for Castiel, with only one certainty. He wanted Dean there every time.

But what if Dean came back to his usual self, and suddenly lost interest? What if Castiel made a mistake one time? What if there was some other reason why this didn't work out? What if the hunting and the civil wars in Heaven broke them apart for good?

And then Castiel remembered a movie that Meg had watched with him in the psychiatric ward one day. Where a pretty blonde woman could never remember the romantic gestures of her partner, but he tried every day to make a difference in her life. Castiel decided, as underhand as it might be, as much as he could wish that Dean would remember each and every second of the dates he had planned, that he would take this option. That he would repeat their first date over and over, in different places, different times, different realities; whatever it took to keep Dean his. He may have had an eon to live, but his time with Dean, he knew, was precious.


	2. Date One

**Sorry I've taken so long to update this! I'll write it when I can!**

**I got a comment on the first chapter which I've seen before on one of my other fics, and I just want to address it here. Someone commented on the way I do speech marks. I asked on my ****Facebook page, which has a lot of writers on it from different countries, and I found out it's a British/American thing. That is to say, I'm a British writer, following a British pattern, and I was taught to use single quotations for speech, and double for direct quotations made by characters. I'm really sorry if it seems off-putting! It's strange how so many things differ in our language, isn't it? And people think I'm mad for having an American-British translation dictionary ;)**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter! I've proof-read it just now, I don't think I've made any silly mistakes, but by all means comment if you notice any! Or just because everyone likes reviews!**

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Castiel had thought long and hard about the best date to begin with. Even if he planned to make Dean forget every date in order to have a new first one, he wanted to ease Dean into the idea of dating him, and that meant beginning in Dean's comfort zone.

For example, Castiel had once seen a film about two cartoon dogs who shared a plate of spaghetti, and although he didn't fully appreciate the concept of dining in an alleyway - that was the first place you were likely to stumble upon something demonic - he did like the notion of the intimacy that would come from sitting across a table with Dean, the only real source of light coming from a slowly melting candle perched on the linen covering the small plinth of wood that separated them. It wouldn't entirely separate them, of course, because the table would be so small, that by drawing their chairs in close enough to eat, their legs would touch, would graze against each other, and although Castiel would have no need to share Dean's meal, he could still experience some of the heightened emotions by knowing Dean's body was pressed close to his. Castiel dreamed of that date, the one with fine dining and intimacy and a sense that only they existed on the planet. But he knew how uncomfortable Dean would find it. It wouldn't be the prospect of being so close to Castiel, or the type of food, but the expectation that Dean would feel was placed upon him by others. He would feel something as arbitrary as his clothes separated him from the other diners, lowering his worth as compared to theirs. He would be self-conscious as he ate, misjudging which piece of silverware to use, refusing to handle his wine glass for fear his grip would be either too firm or too clumsy. And Castiel would wish to tell him that there was no need for the reservation, that the other diners should feel honoured to be in the presence of the man who tirelessly worked to save their lives over and over. But that would not matter to Dean, because that is his job and this is etiquette and Castiel would struggle with the implications of human interactions all over again.

It took him a few weeks to find the perfect first-first date with Dean. They were separated temporarily, as the Winchester's hunted a djinn and Castiel met with a few of his angelic brothers, who were discussing new Heavenly strategems. The meeting, Castiel felt, had gone well and he had contributed to a worthy cause, as the other angels present embraced humanity much the same way he did. He had been returning to Dean's side, when he passed a sign that caught his eye. Two men wore camouflage and face masks, wielding unusual-looking guns. The words screamed "Paintball!" and Castiel knew that Dean would find the activity humorous.

He had hurried to Dean's side, but unfortunately, Dean and Sam were in a diner, tucking into their meals of a burger and salad respectively. He couldn't materialise in front of the other patrons of the diner, and couldn't discuss the date in front of Sam. He had understood the subtext enough to know that Dean did not wish to share the news with Sam, that he had agreed to this date with Castiel. So Castiel remained invisible and silent in the diner, listening to them discussing a recent baseball game they had witnessed. The anticipation of seeing Dean's face as Castiel revealed the date was hard for the angel to deal with, but somehow he resisted the temptation until the boys had left the diner, and Sam was making a phone call while Dean climbed into the Impala. Castiel "appeared" in the backseat.

'Hey, Cas,' Dean looked at him in the rearview mirror. 'How's it going?'

'Paintball.'

'What?'

'Our date. We should participate in paintball.'

'I don't know Cas, it's meant to be a team effort. It's not really a date thing.'

'Oh. I thought you'd be interested. You could shoot things and no one would die.'

Dean chuckled.

'Okay, fine, Cas, we'll paintball. Just you and me.'

Castiel beamed at Dean, as Sam slid into the passenger seat, simultaneously putting his phone into his pocket. Sam seemed oblivious to the atmopshere that was developing between Dean and Castiel as he settled in his seat.

'Hey, what're you guys talking about?'

'Cas wants to try paintball. I figure, we're done with the djinn, why not?'

'Oh, cool, I'll book us in somewhere. Great idea, Cas!' Sam turned and beamed at the angel, who levelled him with a dirty stare back.

'Uh, I think Cas booked something already, right, Cas? And there were only two slots going.'

'What?' Sam complained. 'Who did you go with, Cas? I'll call and try and get a third.'

'Sammy, suck it up, maybe next time,' Dean patted his arm playfully, winking at Castiel in the mirror.

'Well, why do you automatically get the second ticket?'

'Because Cas likes me more. Don't worry Sam, we'll drop you at the hotel, you can watch porn or whatever, and I'll show our good angel buddy how to pulverise nerds with paint pellets.'

Sam sighed, and leaned back in his seat as Dean headed back to their motel. The drive was short, and Dean didn't even turn off the engine outside of the motel, letting it idle as he looked expectantly at Sam.

'Bye, then.'

'Thanks Dean, really, way to make me feel unwanted.'

Dean shrugged.

'You are unwanted right now. We'll see you later, okay?' Dean looked in the rearview mirror again. 'Cas? You coming up front?'

Sam rolled his eyes and climbed out of the Impala, slamming the door with unnecessary force as he stalked away. Castiel flashed into the front seat, and Dean pulled away.

'So, where's this paintballing gig?' Dean asked as he hit the local highway.

'Not too far. I didn't realise you meant right now, Dean.'

'Why not? Case is over, you had an idea for our date. What's to wait for?'

Castiel hadn't banked on Dean's impulsiveness, his spontaneity.

'Nothing, I just didn't realise that it would be a case of me sharing an idea and we would instantly do it.'

Dean smiled.

'We've been talking about this long enough Cas. It's about damn time, huh?'

As crudely as Dean had expressed the sentiment, Castiel had to agree that it had taken an awfully long time from when they had first discussed coffee until they reached this point. Dean fell silent as he drove, looking for an area that seemed likely for a paintball game, and Castiel took to watching Dean's hands as they gripped the wheel, caressing the leather covering as he turned the car, the way a muscle moved at the back of his cheek when he swallowed, how delicate Dean's eyes looked when he blinked, the long eyelashes fluttering down over his look of stern concentration.

Castiel loved that contradiction in Dean, the tough exterior, the hardened expressions, all of which would melt away in a moment if you looked at him in the right way, or if Dean felt empathetic to your situation. And he believed strongly in paying his dues. Castiel loved nothing more than the fact that Dean took promises seriously, and worked hard to protect those who helped him. Like he had when they had first met. They would never have bonded if Dean hadn't felt some gratitude for Castiel pulling him out of the pit. But, Castiel reflected, if that wasn't Dean's attitude, he would never have been assigned the job of saving Dean's soul. To Castiel, the very fact there was no way they wouldn't have bonded was evidence that he was meant to be with Dean, on any and all levels.

'Here we go. Are you ready?'

'No, but I know you'll enjoy it.'

Dean smiled, and placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder, squeezing it slightly and rubbing.

'You will too, Cas. Come on, we'd better get in there before all the good pellets are taken.'

'I may need you to explain the rules. I only said because the pictures-'

'It'll be fine, Cas. Come on.'

Dean climbed out of the Impala, turning to look at Castiel, who had flashed out of the car and stood behind him. Castiel heard Dean chuckling as he locked up the car and turned around to face the angel.

'Maybe you shouldn't use your angel powers for the game. Might be an unfair advantage.'

'You have the advantage of knowing how to shoot.'

Dean's eyes flickered over Castiel's face, the smile set into his face as he nodded towards a slightly ramshackle building set within a sprawling tree line.

'We need to go in there, right?'

Castiel nodded, letting Dean take charge as they entered the building, paid for their attendance, and listened to the safety lecture that the paintball company insisted they needed to listen to. Castiel found their speech dull and confusing, and he spent most of the twenty minute presentation watching Dean's reactions as Dean smirked and snorted with soft laughter, obviously getting more out of the situation than Castiel was. Castiel wanted to reach over, to plant a soft kiss on the slight dimple on Dean's face, to thread his fingers with Dean's and lean against the strong, solid hunter. But the room was full of various other men, most of whom carried themselves the way Dean did, with that air of confidence and independence and a slight arrogance that altered their stances slightly. As much as this was an activity that Dean would enjoy, Castiel was beginning to regret his decision to make this their first date. There was no chance of the intimacy that Castiel had desired, not when he was being handed a plastic gun full of tiny, multi-coloured beads, and marched outside into the woodland, where Dean took charge of the group they were part of, which included four men Castiel had never seen in his life. Dean began talking of strategy and strengths, checking what the other team members were able to do and planning the best way for them to win their current game.

And Castiel fell in love with Dean all over again, watching the way his mouth formed the words, listening to the deep timbre of Dean's voice, the stern infliction as Dean enforced his authority, the kind words he used to motivate the team. Dean was in his element, doing what he did best, and Castiel was in awe once more of the human he was fortunate enough to at least consider a friend, and amazed that Dean had agreed to this date. So Castiel swallowed his disappointment down, and listened to Dean's instructions as well as he could. He finished up quickly, and the rest of the team split up, missing the moment when Dean grabbed Castiel's shoulder, and pulled him into a nearby hut, seemingly oblivious to the way Castiel's skin erupted at the touch, burning and tingly and taking all his attention.

'You're keeping hold of the flag, okay? I'm covering you, the guys are the offence,' Dean muttered. Castiel nodded, relieved that Dean was recapping for his benefit, and that he wouldn't be too far away. 'You'll need to watch for me too, okay? In case someone sneaks up on me. Remember what they said about how to use the gun?'

Castiel nodded, and Dean smirked, squeezing his fingers on Castiel's arms and leaning closer, placing his head beside Castiel's, their skin nearly touching and the proximity of Dean sending Castiel's system into overdrive. The sensation of Dean being so close, but not making contact was somehow more intoxicating than if they were doing exactly as Castiel wanted, and were pressed flush against one another, leaning heavily against the wooden hut, Dean's lips and tongue and teeth attacking Castiel's face in a bout of heated passion as their hands stroked and grabbed and rubbed and caressed every inch of each others torsos, their bodies chest-to-chest, stomach to stomach, groins pressing against each other, restricted by their clothes …

He made himself concentrate as Dean whispered in his ear, Dean's very breath warming Castiel's cheek and sending shivers down his spine.

'Don't think I don't realise you're undressing me with your eyes. Focus, okay Cas?'

'Well, we are on a date.' Castiel replied throatily. Dean laughed softly.

'We are. I haven't forgotten. Just take it easy, okay Cas?'

What Castiel would have liked to have happen next was for Dean to kiss the spot he'd been breathing on, or to maybe bite gently on his ear lobe, or to pull back slightly and press his lips on Castiel's, aiming for a gentle kiss and being pleasantly surprised when Castiel unleashed the passion that he learned from the pizza man on him.

Instead, Dean gave him a one-armed hug, patting his back a couple of times before stepping away, peering out through a gap in the hut's doorway. Castiel stared at the hunter's back, his mind still reeling as he debated the things he should have done to lengthen the hug, to turn it into something else vaguely romantic.

'Don't think I can't tell you're picturing us having sex, Cas,' Dean whispered from the doorway.

'I wasn't,' Castiel lied. Dean chuckled, holding the paint gun up to his shoulder, pointing it through the small crack of the doorframe.

'Sure you weren't. You keep trying to have eye sex with me.'

'Dean-'

'If I wasn't okay with it, Cas, I wouldn't be here right now. But there's time for that, right now, we should focus. You got the flag?'

'Yes.'

* * *

Paintball, Castiel realised, was a long activity, one that took most of the day. Dean had single-handedly taken out three of the other team protecting Castiel, and Castiel had imagined Dean as his knight in shining armour, his protector, when normally it felt like Castiel was the one saving Dean. The reversed roles felt good to Castiel, as though it put them on a more even footing.

Everyone stopped before it grew dark, and Castiel stood slightly off to the side as Dean laughed with the other team mates and exchanged numbers, agreeing that, if he and Castiel were ever in the area, they would love to be part of the team again. Castiel stood beside the Impala, watching as Dean talked, and listened patiently, ducking his head so he was on a similar levels to the men who weren't as tall as he was. Dean looked so comfortable talking to other humans, even after he had pummelled them with paint pellets for most of the afternoon. Castiel had taken a few to the stomach and thighs during the games, and he knew that if he were a human, his skin would be marred by the black, blue, purple, green and yellow hues of various bruises before too long. He wondered, as Dean clapped one guy on the back and shook his hand, whether Dean's skin would be covered in the same way. He made a mental note to kiss each and every one before healing Dean completely.

Dean jogged back to him, smiling widely.

'Wanna go grab a beer? Celebrate all the wins?' He stopped just out of Castiel's reach.

'I- yes, that sounds good.' Castiel said stiffly. Dean frowned at him momentarily.

'You okay there, Cas?'

What Castiel wanted to say is that he was dying for some physical interaction, for Dean to respond to what he had referred to earlier as Castiel's "eye sex" and push him up against the Impala, mouth pushing down on Castiel's, tongue forcing its way roughly into Castiel's mouth, his fragile human lungs burning as he learned to balance his breathing with their connection, his legs shaking with the effort of standing up when Dean was pressed so close to him. But he knew that as soon as he put the words out there that Dean would clam up, avoid the issue, and refuse to ever try this again.

'I'm fine Dean. You enjoy beer, so we should go and get a beer.'

Dean folded his arms, staring at the angel, one eyebrow cocked.

'Okay, drop the bullshit, Cas,' Dean looked over his shoulder, as everyone else was driving away, leaving them alone in the makeshift car park. He turned back to Castiel. 'You don't want to grab a beer, clearly. What do you want to do? This is your date, too.'

'I want to make you happy, Dean.'

Dean sighed.

'Get in the car, Cas.'

Castiel zapped himself into the passenger seat of the Impala as Dean unlocked his door, climbing into the driver's side, and in one fluid motion, leaned across and kissed Castiel. It wasn't any of the passionate explosions of feral emotion that Castiel had been expecting, but a chaste kiss, lips pressed together for a few moments. Castiel reflected on the softness of Dean's lips, the bottom one slightly more moist than the other, as Dean had a penchant for licking his lower lip often. A small crack in one corner, the top layer of skin coming away slightly, feeling rough against Castiel's mouth. A hint of Dean's breath on Castiel's tongue, a slightly sour note from long exposure to alcohol that was surprisingly pleasant. Dean's hand on the back of Castiel's neck, gentle yet firm, his fingers working the short bristles for the brief moment their mouths were connected, almost massaging the back of Castiel's neck. Castiel's eyes closed as Dean's fingers brushed across his skin, and remained closed as Dean pulled away and chuckled softly to himself again. Castiel didn't care, he was instantly replaying the moment, over and over, in his head.

'Cas?'

'I love you, Dean.'

The silence that followed Castiel's declaration was charged with a tension that Castiel didn't understand. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw Dean looking down at the steering wheel, the tick in his cheek flickering again.

'We should go back,' Dean decided eventually, and Castiel cursed himself for changing the mood. How had telling Dean that he loved him - which, surely, Dean knew already? - Made Dean feel like he should call an end to their evening? They drove in silence back to their motel.

As Dean parked up, he looked over at Castiel, his jaw tensing as though he had something to say, and Castiel looked back, worried about what Dean could possibly say.

'So, paintball was fun. Thanks, Cas.'

'It's okay,' Castiel said quietly.

'It was a good date. Beat some I've been on.'

'That's good. That's what I wanted.'

Dean was staring hard at him, and Castiel couldn't take it any further, turning his head and staring at his knee, as though the grey slacks he wore would be able to quash how uncomfortable he felt.

'Cas?'

'Yes?'

'Are you-'

'We should go and see Sam.' Castiel announced quickly, and zapped out of the car, straight into the motel room, where Sam was kicking back on his bed, watching something on his laptop.

'Hey, Cas, is Dean with you?' Sam asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

'I believe Dean will be here shortly, he was just parking the car.'

Sam nodded, still staring at the laptop, and Castiel stood to the side awkwardly, listening for Dean's footsteps outside. It seemed to take an age, but was really about ten minutes, before Dean finally stomped along, and pushed his way into the room, his eyes automatically latching onto Castiel. He looked frustrated, or angry - Castiel didn't have enough experience with telling the two apart where Dean was concerned - but before they could say anything to each other, Sam was speaking up, still staring at his laptop.

'Did you eat already? I was thinking about ordering some pizza in.'

'Sounds good,' Dean said stiffly, glaring at Castiel as he slouched over to the small table and sat heavily in one of the plastic chairs, folding his arms and leaning onto the table. Castiel didn't understand Dean's body language, at all, and he knew Dean wouldn't explain anything with Sam in the room, not really. Castiel was going to have to bide his time and put up, for now, with Dean's tantrum, before he got to wipe Dean's memory of the date from his mind. He was glad he'd decided to do that, because there was clearly no way Dean would want to date him again otherwise.


	3. Date Two

Castiel had waited until some time in the early morning for Dean to fall asleep so he could wipe the hunter's memory of their disastrous date. Dean had sat up, glaring at him, but not speaking, for hours, before eventually turning in.

Castiel wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, exactly, but he figured that maybe it was his declaration of love. Maybe Dean was having a heard time dealing with Castiel being so brazen so early on into this relationship. He hadn't been able to help it, however, the words seemed to bubble up inside him, and he was unable to prevent them from escaping his lips. At least when Dean woke up in the morning, he would have no recollection of Castiel's faux pas.

He was already imagining what they could do for their next date. Group activities were out, and Castiel was now aware that however they phrased it, it had to be clear to Sam that only Dean and Castiel were involved. Castiel wasn't sure how to express that to Sam to make it absolutely clear that he was not invited, so he was trusting Dean to communicate with his brother.

He spent most of the night watching Dean sleep once he had wiped the previous day from Dean's mind, careful not to get in the way as Dean shifted on the bed, his legs sliding between the sheets and his hands tucking further and further under his chin and his pillow. His lips parted as he settled, and Castiel watched in fascination as they moved soundlessly for a moment, as though Dean was speaking, calling out for him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on Castiel's part. He found it endearing when Dean would rub his head against the pillow in his sleep, as though he was looking for some comfort and the closest he could find was in the cloth-covered feathers below his head.

Castiel was filled with a desire to crawl onto the bed, balancing as he slowly made his way to Dean, slip under the sheets himself, and press up against Dean's warm body, wrapping his arms around Dean's torso and burying his head in the nape of Dean's neck, breathing in his scent, which had hints of apple and cinnamon and something earthier, possibly a reflection of all the pie he ate, and all the outdoor work he did. Either way, Castiel found the smell comforting, just like he found Dean's company comforting. He wanted to close his eyes, lay there beside the man he adored, and feel Dean's hands close over his arms, stroking softly, sense Dean's head turning before the feather touch of his lips found their way through Castiel's unruly spikes …

Castiel didn't move from where he stood. He knew he had to exercise caution when it came to Dean. There were limitations that Dean put in place to protect himself from getting hurt any more than he already had been in life. Castiel knew that, and he'd seen just enough of mankind to know they often put a wall up to hide behind, to protect their feelings from being damaged. It was one of the more fascinating aspects to Castiel, that humans were able to construct invisible barriers to protect invisible parts of themselves. If emotions and protective patterns were physical entities, Castiel presumed most people would walk around surrounded by ruins. But not Dean, Dean would be immersed in a fortress. Sam would possibly be skipping around in a meadow, by comparison.

Day eventually broke, and Sam was the first to wake, stirring easily as the first feeble rays shone through the ineffectual curtains. He squinted as he rubbed his face, and then peeked up at Castiel.

'Morning Cas. Everything okay?'

'Everything is fine, Sam.'

'Cool. I'm going for a jog before Dean gets up, okay? In case he asks when I'm out. I'm assuming you'll still be here when he wakes up?'

Castiel nodded, and looked away as Sam crawled out of bed in just his boxers, approaching his bag and rooting through quickly before pulling out his jogging clothes and throwing them on, unafraid of nudity around his brother and the angel. When he was in a loose t-shirt and jogging bottoms, he scooped up his iPod and waved quickly to Castiel, who nodded and continued to watch Dean sleeping, oblivious to Sam shaking his head in amusement. The moment the door closed softly behind Sam, the tinny echo of music coming out of his headphones cut off, and Dean stirred in his sleep, sitting up slightly, the sheets slipping slowly down his taut bicep, revealing the tanned, slightly freckled skin, and if Castiel angled his head the right way, he could just glimpse the slightly pinker skin of Dean's nipple, tucked just under Dean's arm.

'Mmm, what time is it?' Dean muttered, looking at Sam's bed, and then flopping down. 'Great.'

'Sam's gone jogging,' Castiel spoke up quickly. Dean made an impatient noise, which could easily have been a gurgle.

'Great. Well, while he's gone, I'm going to grab a shower. Will you be okay?'

'I'll be fine, Dean,' Castiel smiled warmly at the hunter, who missed the gesture as he stumbled from his bed towards the en suite bathroom. Castiel took advantage of Dean's lack of awareness to observe how Dean's underwear clung to his skin, the large bulge at the front, the flattering curves of his backside, the slight dimples at the top of his ass that Castiel had an irrational urge to bite.

'Okay. We can talk about that date once I'm done, if Sam's still out, right?'

Dean paused by the doorway and looked back at Castiel, who smiled as innocently as he could possibly manage.

'Sounds good, Dean, I can't wait.'

Dean nodded, and gave him the briefest of smiles before shutting himself in the bathroom. Moments later, Castiel could hear the sound of running water, and he sat gingerly on the edge of Dean's bed, lifting the pillow that had been under Dean's head and sniffing the material for the trace of Dean's scent as he imagined Dean's body in the dim bathroom, naked under the flow of water, his hands rubbing soap in to every inch of skin. He could faintly hear Dean singing, some recent pop song he wouldn't be caught dead singing if Sam was there, and Castiel smiled as he realised that Dean was letting Castiel see a part of him that he wouldn't even share with his brother. Making Dean forget the bad date had made Dean forget he was mad at Castiel also. Maybe there was even a chance that Dean would be more enthusiastic for round two?

Castiel put the pillow back on the bed just before the sound of the water cut off. Castiel knew that Dean wouldn't be out of the bathroom just yet, he would want to brush his teeth and shave his face, which were human activities that Castiel certainly didn't miss from his brief time without a Grace, though he did appreciate when Dean made that kind of effort. Castiel enjoyed the minty tang of Dean's breath when they worked close together, and the smell of the cologne he worked into his cheeks. Dean's various scents were heady and intoxicating for Castiel.

Dean eventually emerged from the bathroom with a small towel wrapped around his waist, the two ends barely meeting up along his legs, and though he pinched the material together tightly, Castiel could still see a thick, muscular thigh flashing every time Dean stepped forward. He knew Dean was probably aware of his staring, but Castiel couldn't help himself. God had done a wonderful job when he created humans, and when it came to Dean? He was probably God's most impressive project yet.

'Hey, Cas? Eyes up here.' Dean pointed to his face, before heading to the dresser drawers under the television and rooting through the clothes inside. It was a quirk that Castiel found adorable. No matter where the brothers were staying, or for however long, Dean would put his clothes away in the closets and dressers provided, while Sam would live out of his bags, sometimes strewing his clothes across the floor and furniture. Dean began dressing himself, and Castiel managed to tear his eyes away from the hunter, looking at the bedside table where Dean's phone sat, a lead running between it and the wall. He waited until he felt the bed sink down, a sign that Dean had finally dressed, to turn back to look at him. Dean was bare-foot, his jeans and a shirt on, and his towel was now slung around his neck as he lifted a corner and rubbed it over his scalp. Castiel swallowed, as Dean smiled at him.

'Sam's probably going to be forever on his jog, wanna go get breakfast? I mean, I know you don't eat, but we could grab Sam some granola after I eat something decent.'

'Sounds good. Sam won't be worried?'

'Nah, I'll text him,' Dean leaned across Castiel to take his phone off the lead, and tap out a message, unaware of Castiel staring at him, at the way he concentrated on the tiny screen, as he used his large, rough hands to carefully handle the small handset. Another contradiction that made Dean so attractive to Castiel. He sent the message then spun the phone into his pocket, smiling at Castiel. 'Give me a minute, and then we'll go.'

Dean grabbed the socks he'd left beside him, and pulled them on his feet, before untucking his boots from underneath the bed and tugging them on too. He reached across Castiel again, not seeming to notice as Castiel inhaled the scene of shampoo as Dean's short spikes grazed his face, and grabbed his car keys and wallet from the table.

'Okay, I'm good,' Dean announced, standing up and heading for the door of the motel room. Castiel followed quickly, and climbed into the Impala as a human would, while Dean sat in the driver's seat. Dean paused, and turned to the angel. 'So, how about we go for a drive first? Grab some breakfast in a while, and just drive for the hell of driving after that?'

'Is this our date?' Castiel asked as innocently as possible. Dean laughed, a deep belly laugh that shook his whole frame.

'Right, we were meant to talk about that! Sure, if you want, Cas. Just text Sam and tell him to fend for himself.' Dean passed his cellphone, and Castiel started tapping on the phone, glad that the Winchesters had taught him how to use these things. He sent the message quickly, and while Dean was concentrating on the road, began scrolling through Dean's contacts. Apart from three contacts for Sam, and Castiel's number, he still had old friends who had fallen by the wayside, like Garth and Kevin, and even his father. And the vast majority of his contacts were females. Castiel felt a stab of jealousy, deep within his gut. 'You text him yet?'

'Yes.'

'What're you doing now? Reading my texts?'

'No, I wouldn't.'

'Cas, I was teasing. So, you wanna make a day of it?'

'That sounds good.'

Dean nodded, his eyes still on the road. Castiel turned his head to watch Dean, glad that he could technically do that all he wanted during this drive. Dean's profile was as well sculpted as the rest of his physique, his prominent cheekbones and his plump lips and-

'I'm feeling pancakes, is that cool?' Dean interrupted Castiel's internal catalogue of adoration.

'You're the one eating, Dean.'

'Did you ever try pancakes as a human? Because if you didn't, you're missing out.'

'I'll take your word for it, Dean. Watching you enjoy them will be enjoyment enough for me.'

Dean shook his head slowly.

'Man, you don't even know. At least you're going to be a cheap date.' Dean smirked, and Castiel frowned.

'Is that supposed to be a good thing?'

Dean laughed again, that deep rumbling laugh that Castiel could feel through the leather-bound seat.

'Oh, Cas,' he smirked again, but didn't elaborate on the thought. Instead, he sat forward, squinting at the horizon, and Castiel happily went back to concentrating on the way Dean's hair looked fluffier after his shower and how silky smooth his skin looked, and imagined how it would feel to have the shaved bristles of Dean's cheeks scratch against his own. 'You still with me, buddy?'

Castiel shook his head, coming back around, out of his thoughts.

'Sorry Dean.'

'Don't be sorry, we're here,' Dean nodded at a Mom'n'Pop diner. 'Are you alright, man? You don't seem like you, much.'

'I'm just … glad, that you agreed to a date.'

Dean shrugged.

'It's pancakes and a mini road trip, Cas, it's not a ring on my finger. Come on.'

Dean climbed out of the Impala, and headed for the sidewalk as Castiel stayed in the car, watching the hunter. Dean's head was bowed slightly, and he walked with his knees apart, but even those imperfections were endearing to Castiel. He smiled to himself as Dean turned around and cocked his head at the door of the diner, and Castiel scrabbled to open the car door as he realised Dean was impatient for his meal. He joined the hunter on the sidewalk as Dean locked the car and nudged Castiel with his shoulder.

'Seriously, man, what's up?'

Castiel looked up at Dean, his eyes locking onto Dean's pink lips, imagining the kiss they had shared the day before, and how much he would love to do the same again. Or even take it further than the brief, chaste kiss that Dean had given him the day before. And though Castiel vocalised none of his thoughts, Dean seemed to understand, as though he could read the flavour of Castiel's intentions in the air between them.

'I need to eat, Cas, okay? And after, we'll go somewhere and … talk.'

The way that Dean said that final word, the way his voice seemed to croak and break up on the single syllable, it said to Castiel that maybe Dean was more willing to be physical with him than he'd imagined, that maybe talk was code for what Castiel truly wanted. Because he talked all the time with Dean, and their relationship was strong thanks to their profound bond, but Dean must have known that Castiel's proposal to date meant that he wanted another element to their relationship. So Castiel nodded, and walked with Dean into the diner, uncomplaining as they sat on the counter stools for Dean to order. Castiel posed with a cup of coffee as Dean ordered a short stack with a heavy side of bacon, and sipped from his own coffee cup.

'Has Sam got back yet?' Dean leaned on the counter with one arm, and nodded at his phone, that was still in Castiel's hand. Castiel passed it over to him, rather than check for messages himself, and Dean smiled briefly before concentrating on the screen. 'Yeah, he has.'

Dean started tapping on the phone again, reaching across the counter and grabbing his coffee cup, holding it by the body as he sipped absent-mindedly on the hot liquid. Castiel grabbed his own cup, sipping his own drink and trying not to wince as the abundant taste of molecules passed over his tongue. He knew he only had to last until Dean had eaten, and he was sure he could push himself to cope with the coffee until then. Dean's breakfast was placed in front of him, as he pocketed his phone, and picked up his fork, stabbing into the pancake and biting on the fluffy yellow pancake before groaning. That groan shot through Castiel's system, spiking the rhythm of his heartbeat and warming his stomach, making his pants tight around his groin. How could Dean have so much effect on him with one primitive, guttural noise?

'This is so good man, you sure you don't want?' Dean asked with his mouth still full.

'It's fine, Dean. You, um, you have a little syrup,' Castiel pointed to the corner of his mouth. Dean swiped at his mouth, on the wrong side, and Castiel's face lit up as he smiled at the hunter's misunderstanding. He leaned over on his seat and stroked the corner of Dean's mouth with his thumb, catching Dean's eyes which seemed to darken at the action. Castiel paused, his thumb still hovering by Dean's face, the smear of syrup across the pad of his thumb. Had he made a huge mistake in being too forward? But then Dean caught his thumb in his mouth, the soft skin enveloping him up to the knuckle, his teeth grazing against the sensitive area and his tongue reached out and licked the syrup away. It only lasted for a mere second, but Castiel was even more desperate for contact with Dean after the brief moment. He pulled his hand away, shaking slightly, reliving the feel of Dean's slightly dry lips and the moist softness of his tongue, the way Dean's eyes had closed almost automatically as he acted on impulse.

They didn't speak about what had happened, or make any eye contact with the local patrons. If anyone had witnessed those few seconds, Castiel knew Dean did not want to acknowledge it. Humans were strange in that way.

Dean didn't take long to finish his meal, throwing down some bills onto the table and clapping a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

'Come on, let's go find somewhere.'

Dean's touch sent tingles all over Castiel's body, but he managed to stand and follow Dean to the door, fighting the urge to let his fingers graze against Dean's. At any moment, he would push this too far, and Dean would no longer want to know. He waited it out as they climbed back into the car, and Dean drove off again, his eyes scouring the local landscape again.

'Can I ask you something?' Dean broke their silence, still driving, only looking at the road.

'Of course Dean, you can ask me anything.' Castiel said enthusiastically.

'And you'll be completely honest?'

'Why would I lie to you?'

That earned Castiel a quick look, before Dean turned back to scanning the horizon.

'How long have you wanted to do this? Like, how long've you been into me?'

Castiel sucked in a deep breath. He wanted to answer poetically, something that would lodge in Dean's memory. _I have loved you forever, since before you existed. I've loved all the atoms that eventually led to creating the man you have grown to be. I have loved you before your mother even knew that she had the capability of carrying you._

'I'm not sure, Dean,' he spoke slowly instead, covering up the need to spout poor rhyming couplets at the man. 'We've always had such a significant bond, but when it became something more? Maybe it was when you refused Michael, and stood up to Zachariah, when it was clear you would stand up for everything you believed it. Especially as I knew, by then, that you would stand up for me.'

'That's a pretty long time to have feelings that you don't act on.' Dean observed.

'I suppose it is, for a human.'

Dean nodded, processing how long that scope of time really was for a being like Castiel.

'So, I guess us dating, that doesn't make us gay, does it? If anything, it's beastiality.'

'I choose not to think of it that way, Dean.'

'How are you thinking about it?'

'That you have a beautiful soul, and I'm fortunate to have met you.'

Dean stopped the car, looking at Castiel with a frown on his face, his features otherwise closed to exposing his emotions. The walls were up, Castiel noted sadly. He also realised they were parked in the outskirts of a field, out in the middle of nowhere.

'Cas,' Dean eventually muttered, his voice low and urgent and causing another reaction in Castiel's vessel. And then he slid across, crawling over Castiel's body, pushing down on the angel with his weight and heat before pressing his lips against the angel's, sliding his hands along Castiel's sides as his tongue probed into Castiel's mouth, and Castiel almost froze in disbelief. Dean was voluntarily kissing him, the way he had fantasised about a thousand times, and it was everything he had hoped for, rough skin with gentle touches, caring hints in a passionate embrace, and Castiel could feel himself shaking as he slid down in the seat, unable to control himself as a thousand explosions set off along his body. Dean's hands skimmed down, hooking around the back of Castiel's knees and pulling them up onto the seat so they were laying along the leather, flush against each other, the kisses never seeming to end as Dean threaded his legs through Castiel's, grunting and moaning as his body started rocking naturally against Castiel's, and Castiel could feel his eyes rolling back in his head, even as a small voice of doubt started in the back of his mind.

Dean wouldn't do this, would he? It wouldn't take a brief compliment and a moment in a diner to lead to this point, would it? He could feel the doubt growing even as he felt Dean's erection pressing against him. How was this going to happen? How did two males connect on a sexual level? Castiel hadn't given this enough thought.

'Oh, Cas,' Dean mumbled, and kissed down onto Castiel's neck, his tongue flicking against Castiel's stubble, his body even more insistent against Castiel's, which had began to respond without Castiel's awareness, grinding against Dean as though they could somehow merge into one person. Dean's breathing was harsh, rasping, and he pulled his shirt off quickly before going back to Castiel's neck, his hands sliding down Castiel's shirt and working on the buttons. Castiel bucked against him, groaning involuntarily himself, as Dean chuckled quietly. 'All in good time.'

The whisper sent shivers down Castiel's spine, and dissolved the negative thought he'd been having that Dean was purely going through the motions with him. Those four words felt like confirmation that Dean wanted this as much as Castiel did. With a renewed confidence, Castiel worked his own hands down, along to Dean's waistband, tugging at Dean's belt and eventually getting the button undone, the zipper down.

'Are you sure, Cas?' Dean breathed, propping himself on his hands, leaving Castiel's neck alone. Castiel looked up at the human above him, his eyes scanning along Dean's torso, to the dark hairs that began near his belly button and continued passed where Castiel's were still holding onto his jeans. He didn't remember feeling the hair on his fingers before, and was visited by the urge to stroke the line now. 'I mean, we have all the time in the world-'

'You'd want a second date?' Castiel gasped out, his own breath still erratic. Dean laughed quietly.

'How about we don't call this a date? We call this some fun after breakfast.'

Castiel's finger slid along the trail of hair as he considered this, noticing that even the lightest of touch along the area made Dean's stomach jump up, like the patch of skin there was sensitive.

'Are you sure?' Castiel pressed. Dean smirked, and bent down to press his lips to Castiel's once more, just briefly, lifting up again straight away; the motion almost as though Dean was doing press ups over the angel.

'I'm sure, Cas. You don't agree to date your best friend without understanding it's more for the long term.'

'But you said-'

'Cas, relax, okay?' Dean began kissing his neck again. 'Just relax, baby. All in good time.'


	4. Date Two-point-five

**I wrote this a few days ago, and I'm not 100% happy with it, but GrammarDemon says it's fine, so … I trust her. I hope she's not Ruby-ing me ;) nearly time for Asylum! It's my first convention so I'm getting freaking excited! And so nervous! And about to be so broke ...**

**Speaking of GrammarDemon, if you haven't already, you should read her stories, ****_Sammy I Broke The Kid_**** and ****_Dirty Deeds_****. They're fantastic and show her wicked sense of humour. She also likes reviews, like Sam likes pet dogs. Be her Bonesy!**

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Castiel still couldn't believe how affectionate Dean had been in the Impala, even hours after they had finished making out, touching, exploring each other's bodies. Eventually, mouths swollen and red, skin slightly chafed, they had just laid together along the front seat, their legs tangled together, fingers interlocked as they rested.

'So, since this was just fooling around in the car,' Dean spoke eventually, his breath warming a spot on Castiel's neck. 'Did you just wanna make the whole day a date? We've got all the time in the world. Sammy can live without us for the day.'

'Okay,' Castiel sounded unsure. He hadn't banked on Dean actually showing an interest like this, or taking charge.

'You got anything in mind for what we could do?' Dean's thumb started stroking softly along Castiel's hand, sending small shivers of pleasure over Castiel's skin.

'Um,' the truth was, Castiel had used most of his imagination on paintball, and he really hadn't enjoyed the experience.

'It's cool. We can drive around, look for something. It's not like we have a curfew, right?'

Castiel shifted his head along the leather, looking intently at Dean, trying to understand what he meant.

'Come on, angel boy,' Dean kissed his nose gently, and sat up, pulling his shirt back on and untangling his legs from Castiel's. Castiel sat up slowly, taking his shirt and sliding it back on as Dean started the car back up, driving out of the field and scouring the horizon again.

'So, fancy cattle wrangling?'

'What's that?'

'God knows. Okay, a hay ride?'

'Isn't hay immobile?'

Dean burst out laughing.

'Oh, man, Cas! Okay, um, wanna catch a game?'

Castiel pressed his lips together, trying to understand what Dean meant. Dean seemed to interpret his silence correctly.

'A ball game, Cas. Football, baseball, whatever. We'll get some rickety old seats and eat hotdogs covered in ketchup and mustard. It'll be fun.'

It didn't sound like so much fun to Castiel. It sounded exactly like paintball, like Dean could play macho and ignore the tension between them, and Castiel wanted it to feel like a date. He wanted all of Dean's attention, all of his eye contact. He wanted to unlock all the secrets that Dean kept locked so close to his chest. He wanted the chance for intimacy, and privacy, like they had just experienced. But Castiel was aware that describing such detail to Dean would chase him off. Dean was still playing it safe.

'What about a bar?' Castiel said eventually. Dean looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and Castiel pretended not to notice.

'Sure, we can go to a bar.' He nodded.

'Not one of the ones you normally go to, with the black walls and sticky floors and three types of drink.' Castiel decided. Dean smirked.

'Okay princess. We'll find a good one. I should probably get changed first though, they don't normally let people into those places wearing jeans.'

Castiel frowned. He'd been correct in assuming Dean would make note of attire. But, he speculated, at least Dean seemed enthusiastic about trying it, rather than complaining about dressing nicely. Maybe there was hope for the things Castiel wanted yet. He just had to keep trying to make it sound like this was all Dean's idea, to keep him compliant.

'We should go shopping. You could probably do with a better outfit. You look like you're going to check their receipts.'

Castiel didn't understand what Dean was implying, but he liked the idea of shopping with Dean, though he'd never experienced retail before.

'As you wish,' Castiel smiled. He caught the moment that Dean shook his head, smiling to himself.

Dean pulled smoothly into an out-of-town shopping mall, and looked at Castiel appraisingly.

'So, I'm going to guess you have no idea what you wanna wear, right?' Dean smirked. 'We'll do a deal, I pick an entire outfit for you, you pick one for me. Right?'

Castiel grinned back, already trying to picture how he'd like Dean to look on their date. For some reason, he settled on a scene he'd seen in another movie, of a one piece in a rather hideous green, that stretched from the shoulders to the crotch. Castiel hadn't understood much of the movie, but he had liked that scene when he imagined Dean in that outfit. Surely they'd have some at the mall?

He followed Dean into the building, letting Dean take charge once again as he headed towards a store crowded with denim and plaid shirts like Sam favoured. Castiel tried to swallow down his displeasure at being in the store. Dean wasn't going to dress him like Sam, was he? They'd broken down some boundaries, making out heavily in the Impala. Dressing like Sam, Castiel felt, would be a huge step back.

'Dean, we're going to a nice bar, aren't we?' Castiel said in a quiet voice, trying to slip his hand into Dean's. Dean pulled his hand away as soon as he felt Castiel's fingers graze his palm.

'Yeah, sure,' he looked at Castiel, and sighed. 'Okay, nothing like this stuff?'

Castiel shook his head, and Dean shrugged, turning on his heel and heading straight back out of the store, Castiel hurrying to keep up. They approached a large department store and headed over to the men's section, where a cheerful sales girl started chattering away to Castiel.

'Hello, can I help you with anything today?' She beamed. Castiel eyed her warily, before glancing up at Dean. Dean merely shrugged, and thumbed through a nearby pile of polo shirts.

'Um, yes. My-my friend and I,' Castiel was careful to not name Dean as his date. 'We're going to a bar. A nice one. I have to pick an outfit out for him. What do you suggest?'

Dean raised an eyebrow at Castiel, and Castiel knew he was silently being accused of cheating at the game. The girl looked at Dean, and her eyes bugged open wide.

'Oooooh, well,' the girl began babbling too fast for Castiel to keep up. He stopped paying attention, too caught up with how Dean had begun to smirk, watching this thin girl over-gesturing as she described … whatever it was about clothes that had made her talk so enthusiastically. Dean winked at him, and he could practically hear Dean teasing him for trying to cheat.

'Thank you, I'll keep that in mind,' Castiel blurted out as the girl took a breath, and hurried into the next section, Dean openly laughing behind him as he followed.

'Wanna start again?' Dean asked, still laughing in short bursts, as though he kept finding new things to be amused at. Castiel stopped at a display of button-down shirts, and pulled a soft grey one from the pile.

'It's fine, Dean. I think I can work it out.'

'Uh huh, it's only pants, a shirt, maybe a jacket. And shoes. Not rocket science.'

Castiel nodded, crossing the floor to grab some blue dress trousers and a navy jacket, and at the last minute, grabbing a cravat from a display, before passing them over to Dean.

'These.'

Dean looked at the pile, his nose wrinkling at the cravat, a black-and-white patterned silk thing, but then looked back at Castiel, his expression softening.

'Fine, I'll try them once I've picked something out for you.'

* * *

Dean had insisted that Castiel stay put as he walked around picking out clothes. Castiel had no idea what Dean would be thinking, whether his reaction to the cravat would be a way for him to seek revenge or whether he'd want to show Castiel off. But it had been fine, Dean had returned with some tan slacks, a white shirt, and a blue sweater, before he pulled Castiel into a nearby changing room. And then he had undressed Castiel, his fingers moving quickly as he unbuttoned Castiel's shirt and pushed it off, exposing Castiel's chest and causing goosebumps to erupt all over his body. It was only when Castiel was stood in the small cubicle, in white boxer-briefs and his black socks that Dean looked up at his face, and saw the lustful gaze that Castiel had been shooting him.

'Dude, we're in public.' He whispered, and leaned closer, making sure that only Castiel would be able to hear. 'Did you not get enough in the car?'

Castiel shook his head. How could there ever be enough Dean? But he had passed Castiel the outfit, and turned around to change himself, keeping enough distance that they couldn't graze against each other. Castiel had reluctantly put the outfit on that Dean had given him, and looked over at Dean again as he straightened out the jacket he was wearing. Castiel fell in love all over again, or still, or harder, or whichever phrase was technically correct for the searing pain in his head and the rush of heat to his abdomen. Dean looked so good in the clean lines and soft colours, and Castiel fought the urge to reach over and run his fingers through Dean's short hair, to trace Dean's jawline with his fingertips, to kiss every millimetre of skin he could find. Dean caught his eye in the mirror and smiled weakly.

'We're not going to spend time with any pretentious douchebags, are we?'

Castiel shook his head, glad that Dean would be so against interacting with other people in the bar. That meant more focus on Castiel. That meant more intimacy, more Dean, more togetherness.

Dean had managed to convince the chatty salesgirl to ring their outfits up while they were still wearing them, placing Castiel's suit and trench coat, and Dean's worn jeans and sweatshirt into one of their waxed paper bags, gabbling incessantly at both men. Dean smiled and nodded and responded with short answers, trying to escape the store. He looked annoyed as he headed to the car, and Castiel watched him they walked. What had suddenly turned Dean's mood sour? Was it just the shop assistant? Dean drove back towards the motel, and just as Castiel began to have misgivings, Dean pulled the car over, onto a derelict road.

'Okay. Okay,' he seemed to be steeling himself for what he was about to say. 'Okay, Cas, I know I said I'd agree to this date, and today's been … well, it's been way more fun than I thought it was going to be so far. But can we have some ground rules for the bar? Like, no touching, no kissing, no nothing in public. Right?'

'Are you ashamed of me, Dean?' Castiel asked softly, his eyes darting away from the hunter for the first time in weeks. He didn't want to see the look of regret on Dean's face.

'What? No. No Cas. I just don't want any trouble, okay? And it'd be great if we could just enjoy a date together, but I don't wanna have to deal with idiots who can't … who don't … just trust me on this.'

'This isn't about the sales assistant, is it?'

'Cas,' Dean slid his palm up, against Castiel's jawline, cupping his face, the warmth of his palm making Castiel's heart flutter. He stroked his thumb gently across Castiel's cheekbone, until Castiel looked back up at him. 'She was annoying as hell. But it's nothing to do with her. It is about the eye sex in the changing room. It was barely okay there.'

Castiel looked at him, at those familiar moss-green eyes with golden flecks, at the soul peeking its way out of the deep, dark irises to grab Castiel right in the core of his being. Not his vessel, his very essence. Dean stared back, for an infinite amount of time, it seemed.

'This is what I mean by eye sex,' Dean eventually spoke again, his voice cracking as he did.

'You're not looking away,' Castiel pointed out. Dean bit back a smile, which softened his features and made him look ten years younger. Humans had that knack.

'I didn't say I wanted to,' Dean pointed out simply, and turned his head to look around, outside the car. Noticing how barren the world looked at that moment, he turned back and caught Castiel's lips softly with his own, moving slowly, tenderly, and Castiel felt his insides warming up, melting into a puddle within the structure of his skin. Dean resisted Castiel's attempts to slip his tongue into his mouth, and pulled away far too quickly for Castiel's liking. 'Come on, the shop girl at least knew where the kind of bar you'd like would be.'

He sat around again, starting up the car and pulling out smoothly onto the road again, concentrating on driving as Castiel concentrated on him, on the man who set his heart fluttering erratically just by being in close proximity. Dean didn't look at Castiel again until he parked up outside a stark-looking building, all white stucco walls and nondescript panelled windows towards the ceiling.

'Was she sure that we were aiming for this bar?' Castiel asked dubiously. Dean laughed, shaking his head and gripping the steering wheel.

'Oh, Cas, trust me, they spend the money on the inside. Come on.' Dean climbed out of the car swiftly, waiting around the front of the car for Castiel to get out, and walk beside him into the bar.

'How about I grab us some beer and you go grab us a table?' Dean suggested, striding slightly ahead of Castiel and leaning against the bar, which Castiel noted was lit on the top by fluorescent bar lights. The entire lighting scheme in the bar seemed out of the norm, most of the light source coming from the bar or the individual table tops. He felt disoriented, and followed Dean to the bar, standing close beside him. Dean cast a glance behind them.

'Dude, half the tables are empty.'

'I'm not sure I'm going to like this bar,' Castiel decided. 'I don't understand it.'

Dean sighed, holding up two fingers to the bar girl as she caught his eye.

'Look man, I'm trying something very new for you, and I'm pleasantly surprised by it. So deal, we're staying here now. Especially now our beers are in.' He nodded at the bar girl, who had put the bottles on the table, and accepted the twenty he slid her way. And then Castiel found Dean waving a beer bottle in his face, grinning slightly, before he accepted his change and led the way to one of the tiny tables. Castiel sat on the seat opposite Dean apprehensively, feeling slightly better when he felt Dean's knee graze against his leg. At least this bar had that going for it, the compromising personal space that came from too-small tables, designed purely to hold a few glasses of alcohol. Dean sat forward, leaning his head towards Castiel's.

'So, wanna talk about anything in particular? Or just coffee?'

'Tell me things from your childhood.' Castiel decided. Dean smirked, playing with a coaster.

'Geez Cas, didn't you see it all?'

'I didn't know to look for you then. I wish I had.'

'Mmm, way to make it creepy,' Dean grinned before placing his lips around the bottle neck, tongue in place before he tipped the bottle back. Castiel felt his penis twitch just from that small act. How was he supposed to act like he wasn't on a date with Dean when he drank his beer the way he did? How was he supposed to resist taking the drink out of Dean's grip and slide himself onto Dean's lap, holding the hunter's head between two gentle hands and kiss him in front of everyone?

Before Dean could start reminiscing, or changing the subject, before Castiel managed to erase the fantasy from his mind, two girls approached them, giggling incessantly. Castiel would not even have noticed, if Dean hadn't looked up, removing the bottle from his mouth and smiling innocently. That smile was meant to be Castiel's smile.

'Hello,' Dean nodded at them. Castiel turned and looked them over quickly. Both were thin girls, dressed inappropriately in short shirts and tube tops, their faces overly made up and hair coiffed to near stiffness. He turned back to face Dean without acknowledging them further.

'Hi, so, me and my friend have a bet?' One girl giggled, stepping forward and sliding onto Dean's knee herself. Castiel couldn't place the emotion that small action sparked, but he knew that, if the room wasn't rapidly filling up, he would have stuck his angel blade right into her heart. Dean was _his_. 'That you and your friend would buy us a drink?'

Why did this girl pose everything she said like a question? Castiel found the habit frustrating. Dean met his eye, fighting a smirk with humour dancing in his eyes. Castiel recognised the look, it was similar to the time that Dean had dragged him into a strip club. Castiel had managed to ruin that trip also, and luckily Dean had seen the humour in it. Maybe this situation was so similar that it had triggered a memory for Dean also, and that was what the smirk was about?

'Why would we do that?' Dean asked, still fighting the smile, as the girl slid her arms around Dean's neck.

'Because you're good guys,' the girl breathed, and leaned closer to Dean, her eyes sliding shut and her mouth puckering forward and-

Castiel was out of his seat before he knew it, heading for the exit of the bar. So much for their intimacy. Was this technically Dean cheating on him? And had the friend been trying to flirt with Castiel? As he hit the sidewalk, he realised he had heard a shriek, and someone behind him had hampered his progress out of the bar, for a moment anyway. He felt guilt for a short moment, before his frustration and anger and betrayal took over. This was his date with Dean! Who did that girl think she was? She didn't ask Dean's permission to touch him, she just dived in, immediately getting the kind of tenderness from Dean that Castiel could only dream of-

'Hey! HEY! CAS!' Dean was practically screaming behind him. And then, slightly closer. 'Son of a - what the hell was that?'

'She was going to kiss you,' Castiel told the sidewalk as he continued walking.

'Oh my God, Cas! She was a skank, trying to get wasted for free. Hey, look at me!' Dean grabbed at Castiel's arm, pulling him around to face Dean. 'I didn't forget that we're on a date. I was trying to find the point to let her down gently, okay?'

Dean's voice was softer, but he made no effort to comfort Castiel, to stroke his arm or pull him into a hug or anything Castiel would have wanted. Because for Dean, it was easier to flirt with the skank at the bar than it was to be vulnerable with Castiel. And Castiel hated that feeling, that he was somehow second best to someone they had barely met when Dean meant so much.

'Cas, trust me, nothing was going to happen. Nothing. Not after- not after this morning man. But check it, Cas, if you're serious about us being a thing, about you wanting this? You trust me. Because if you don't, we have no chance, whatsoever. So trust me, and be patient, and let me do what I need to because I'm freaking human, okay?'

Castiel nodded, and forced himself to smile, to look into Dean's eyes as though he had nothing to hide.

'You're right Dean. I didn't trust that woman, that's all. Did you want to go back in there?'

Dean shook his head.

'Nah, we're good. Besides, I think you'd get arrested if you walked back in, you busted that girl's nose up pretty well. I didn't get jealous over that, by the way.'

'You know I only have eyes for you,' Castiel breathed. Dean laughed.

'Yeah, I know. Look, let's just call it a night, and we'll do something better tomorrow, okay? Promise.'

And then, shocking Castiel completely, Dean reached closer and gave him a swift kiss on the lips, before heading back to the Impala. Castiel traced a finger where Dean's lips had just been, feeling conflicted. In so many ways, it would be awful to wipe Dean's memory of this day. But Castiel had made the decision, and he was sticking to it.


End file.
